Becoming Sane
by You'reActuallyReadingThis
Summary: Annabeth is insane. She grew up in a mental hospital and doesn't play well with others. But when she was young, Perseus Jackson was introduced to her when Poseidon Jackson bought the asylum. They grow up together, though they rarely talk. But there's obviously something special between them, and they don't know where their boundaries lie. Mental AU, long story.
1. Chapter 1

"Would you _shut up_?" One of the guards yelled into her cell. She rolled her eyes and continued to skip around, humming GLAY quieter than before. It wasn't that she cared if she was annoying them or not, she just didn't want them coming in and being mean again.

"Anyways," the guard—Matthew— continued their conversation that they held seconds before he yelled at her. "Poseidon Jackson is trying to buy the asylum from Mr. Banks, but I don't think he's winning their little argument so far. I can only imagine how _that's_ going to end."

She could practically hear the confusion in the other guard's—Simon's—voice as he asked, "What do you mean?"

She heard a slap, and giggled lightly as she imagined Matthew hitting Simon for being dumb. "Poseidon's a billionaire, idiot! Not to mention has even more power than the president. If Mr. Banks doesn't give him what he wants, Poseidon could sue him with a snap of his fingers. Which would leave _us_ without a job."

"Sounds great to me," she mumbled and flopped down on the ground in front of her handmade tools. She picked up her favorite paintbrush and held up the bottom end, scraping along it with her paper clip to make it perfectly sharp. It had taken a while, but she believed she had finally made her sword. She bounced excitedly at the thought.

"Yeah well, I can't say I'll be too disappointed without this job. Wherever I end up it'll probably be better than babysitting insane kids 24/7. And either way, how do you know Poseidon will let us all go? Wouldn't he keep the employees?"

"Are you really stupid enough to think he's going to just buy all of this then leave it alone? He'll probably tear the building down and use the land to build another agency or something."

The mental girl gasped and scrambled over to the door. "You mean he's gonna kill all 'f us? I don' wanna die!" she screamed, pounding on the door. The guards looked at each other wearily.

"We forgot her last injection, didn't we?" Simon asked, and Matthew nodded. With a sigh, Simon stood and pulled the needle from her nightmares out of a drawer in his desk. He came forward and opened the door, reaching for her. She raced back to the opposite side of the room, terrified of the long, pointy needle that made her unable to think clearly. She didn't want to be clueless again. She was smart, and they knew it. She figured that was why they always injected the sharp object into her arm: so she couldn't outsmart them. Not that it _actually_ made her less smart, she just couldn't express herself clearly after the medicine was put in.

Despite her efforts to stay away, he grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked her closer. He threw her to the ground and grabbed her arm, twisting it to a position that made her wince. He scoffed and shoved the needle into her arm. She immediately turned her head away, refusing to watch the metal go into her arm. To her, the pain didn't matter; it was the idea of something unnatural being put into her body. Maybe it was only her that suffered from the idea of it, but she couldn't bear to think about it. So she didn't. She imagined him massaging her arm—roughly, just to make her imagination not seem too unrealistic—and she smiled. She loved massages.

He yanked the needle out of her arm and shoved her back, resulting in her stumbling until her back crashed against the wall. He walked out of the room, throwing the needle back in the drawer before sitting down.

"The little brat never cooperates," he muttered to Matthew.

The young girl grabbed her bleeding arm and sunk down to the floor. She hated that. She hated _them_. Who could ever not hate them for what they did to her?

* * *

"Sir," not too long after, she heard the sound of chairs scraping the floor as the two guards stood to greet whoever appeared. She strained her ears to listen to their now quiet murmurs, but all she could tell was there was another man. A voice she'd never heard before.

After a minute of trying the listen, their whispers turned into a conversation and their voices rose to a neutral tone.

"My son is in need of a companion: a friend to keep him company. I hear this is the most tame child here, correct?" the stranger's voice spoke.

Simon cleared his throat nervously. "Well she's calm, but I'd say she's one of the most psychotic ones in the building that's under the age of sixteen. I'd uh, recommend looking somewhere else for your kid's friend. I know you own the place, but an asylum…uh, mental hospital isn't the best place for innocent children to go looking for buddies."

"Did I ask that?" Simon remained silent at the question, slightly taken-aback.

"I'm sorry?"

"Did I ask for your opinion? No, I didn't. The only thing that should have come out of your mouth was if we're at the right cell for the right child—now is she in there or not?" Nothing but silence filled the air for the next few moments, and the girl imagined Simon nodding slowly while Matthew tried to hold back his snickers.

The door clicked, and slid open to reveal a tall man wearing a business suit, his hand attached to a little boy's hiding behind him. The man smiled at the girl while he and the boy stepped into the room.

"Hello," the man said, and the girl wondered if he was talking to her. If so, then why was he? "My name is Poseidon Jackson, but you can call me Mr. Jackson. This here," he stepped to the side a bit to reveal the young boy fully. "Is my son Perseus." Perseus had long, dark, shaggy hair that covered his eyes while he looked down. He was pale, almost as pale as the girl. They might have been the same color, but her light blonde hair sent off a lighter shade of skin to the eye.

Mr. Jackson looked back to the girl with a smile. "My son is in need of a friend while I work. I own the building now, and I'll take much better care of you and everyone else here than Mr. Banks has been. But I can only do that if my son is occupied. Would you like to keep him company?" His raised his eyebrows in question, and the girl tightened her grip on the bandage she had placed on her arm where the needle tore her skin. She had a hidden compartment of small bandaids, but she had a nasty habit of picking at them when they were on her skin.

She didn't answer him at first. She never liked any of the other children there in the hospital, but she had never met anyone outside. It's not like they took field trips. So she didn't know if he would be nice. Well, he looked nice enough.

Slowly but surely, she nodded. The smile on Poseidon's face grew and he bent down to the children's level. "Alright then. I'm going to let you two play around, but if either of you leave the guard's sight as he watches you then playtime's over. Understand?"

"Yes sir." Perseus responded as the girl nodded. Mr. Jackson stood and left the room with only one glance over his shoulder. The girl's eyes slowly moved to the boy and scanned over his figure. He looked about eight, the same age as her. But she didn't know for certain. She was about to ask but the boy's voice beat her to it.

"What's your name?" He asked, and she smiled. Nobody had asked her that in a long time.

"Annabeth." She said. "Annabeth Chase."

"Pretty." Was all her said in response, and her smile slowly turned into a frown. Part of the reason she didn't like the other mental kids (or any of the patients for that matter) was because they didn't talk enough. Whenever they did it was to answer her question as to why, and all they ever said was "the voices in my head are enough company," or something along those lines. If this boy was going to act like them, then she was definitely going to take back her promise to be his friend.

* * *

 **Hello inter-bugs! First fan fiction…how was the first chapter? I've been writing for a long time, along with reading fanfics, but I've never actually written a fic so I was like, "hey, why don't I attempt to please people by copywriting characters?" And in all honestly, I think this is a pretty good start. This is obviously an OOC, human AU story. So don't get your undies in a knot because I'm not following the books.**

 **I'll probably update once a week, though I'm not sure. These days I get writer's block waaayy too often, you know? Anyways, thanks for reading! Leave me a review, and also some ideas/guesses of what happens next. Will there be a time skip? Will the story continue a little further from Perseus (he will be called Percy soon, don't worry) and Annabeth's childhood?**

 **We shall see…**


	2. Chapter 2

Annabeth and Perseus didn't talk for the next two months. It didn't bother her much, seeing as she was classified insane and people never found her comfortable to be around. Still, she wondered why he avoided her. His dad owned the asylum, after all, so he shouldn't be scared of her hurting him (Annabeth was insane, not stupid). Nevertheless, she couldn't blame him. He didn't ask to come live next to an asylum, and he didn't ask to have a dad who would be busy running it 24/7.

She couldn't figure his avoidance out, but she didn't need to. It wasn't something she needed to worry about. Why should she care about him, anyway? If he wasn't going to put effort into their friendship then she wouldn't either.

At the moment she was sitting on her floor painting a city over the stainless steel. Buildings had always been her favorite thing to draw, but she consistently added her own touch: Fires burning along the walls, lightning shooting out of the roofs and into the sky, etc. The inside rooms would have faces built into the walls that would speak wisdom and answer people's questions. Some other rooms would have electricity spiking every sixty seconds on the floor, killing anyone who wasn't smart enough to calculate when it would spark. Her mother used to tell her that wisdom was everything. If someone wasn't intelligent or clever, they wouldn't be able to handle whatever purpose the gods had given them, assuming the gods cared about them enough to even _give_ them a purpose. Annabeth didn't have one, she knew, because her mind was shattered. She originally had one, but it disappeared with her mom.

The building she was working on while she waited for her lunch to be brought to her was round, with spikes in random places. The inside she imagined would have floors made of cushions and walls made of trees. A strange combination to anyone else, but fun for her. She was only nine after all, so why wouldn't she have a big imagination?

The door opened slowly and she quickly tossed her paint brushes under her bed. Nobody knew she had them except for her old guard who gave them to her: more on him later. Simon peaked his head in and sighed in boredom when he saw her.

"Come on, kid," he said. "Lunch time." Confused, she stared at him for a moment. They always brought the food to her, never brought her to the food. A welcomed change, but a strange one. Not wanting to upset her guard, she stood and walked to the door. He held out a hand to stop her then reached behind him to grab something from Matthew who was standing outside the door. When he came back around to face her, he was holding two thick, metallic, black wrist bands. "Give me your hands."

She held out her wrists and he slid the bands on. He let them go and they pressed against her wrists like weights.

"They're heavy," she mumbled and he rolled his eyes as he messed with the side of them. A blue hologram screen appeared no more than two inches off one of the band and he typed a long word that Annabeth couldn't decipher (she blamed her dyslexia). After a moment of typing, the metallic things sent an electric jolt through her arm and she yelped. They began to hover around her wrists with blue lasers expanding from her wrists to the bands. It _burned_ her skin like nothing she'd ever physically felt before.

"That hurts!" She hissed, and tried to pull one off. But when she tried, the band wouldn't move no matter how hard she pulled on it. It was like the lasers were solid metal like the bands themselves. She looked up at Simon for an explanation, and he returned her look with a smirk.

"New boss, new rules. Come on, all you freaks are eating together." He said, and she followed him out of the room.

As they walked, Matthew followed close behind. The looks on both the guard's faces were smug, like they were honestly happy to escort her somewhere. Not that they liked her, because they most definitely did not. But they must have felt a sense of responsibility that they hadn't felt by just guarding outside her room.

The walk was no longer than three minutes before they arrived at a large room full of children her age. She had never seen other kids her age apart from on the rarely shown updates on her hologramic screen that appeared on her wall in her room. She stared in awe at the children who looked equally as surprised to be there as her.

Matthew shoved her forward to walk into the room, then left her there without a word. She glanced back at the closed doors once, but didn't worry too much about them. She was more curious as to what she was doing in the room packed with other children her age. She peered around to examine the room. There were tables everywhere—dusty white and round with grey benches attached to them. The children sat around the tables, their trays filled with the same food she was usually fed in her room. She looked to the side of the colossal room to see a line formed to get to a square, black table that trays of food were lifted up from an equally square hole. Next to the table was a hologramic woman wearing a smile as big as Mars. She nodded to each person as they grabbed their tray and headed to a table to sit.

"Enjoy your meal," she'd say to one kid as they grabbed their tray. "Bon appetit," she'd say to the next. "Disfrute de su comida," "nyde did måltid," "Dōzo omeshiagarkudasai," and she kept going in hundreds of different languages Annabeth couldn't dicier. She didn't even know there were that many languages, let alone kids who could speak them in that place.

She walked up to grab a tray and the lady told her to enjoy her meal. She wasn't going to, but she smiled politely then went to sit down at an empty table. She examined the kids siting at the near-by tables: at the table to her right sat three kids, two boys and a girl, who all looked about seven. The girl had platinum blonde hair falling down to her elbows with darker streaks peaking through. She wore the same shirt as everyone else in the room—a rough, gray t-shirt—with forest green pants and black military boots. One of the two boys had spiky black hair that looked so shiny anyone would have thought it was gelled, though the boy most likely had none. He wore the same shirt as the girl but the short sleeves had been torn off leaving it as a tank top. The other boy had flat brown hair, and his shirt looked brand new, the fold creases still visible and not a spec of dust on it. They looked uncomfortable around each other, but from what Annabeth could tell everyone was uncomfortable. They didn't know anyone (other than their individual guards), let alone hundreds of children their age.

The rest of the tables were filled with other unique looking children, and Annabeth didn't feel welcomed by any of them. Granted she might feel more comfortable if she talked to someone, but she doesn't find the courage.

But she doesn't have to. Not too long after Annabeth sat down, a girl with a bob of silky black hair flopped down across from her, slamming her tray down on the table. She made herself comfortable and didn't glance once at Annabeth, just stuffed her face with food. She looked mad. Mad enough to burn down the building if she was given the chance, and she almost looked like she already had. Her hair was a mess and her clothes had tears in dozens of places. Her skin had cuts and bruises all over it and she sniffed through her swollen nose.

 _Did she just get into a fight or something?_ Annabeth wondered. She sure looked like it.

"Stop staring at me." The girl said, and Annabeth jumped at the low, threatening tone she let out.

"Sorry." Annabeth muttered and stared intently at her food. She wasn't hungry unlike the days where the food was brought to her room. She was too distracted now, and knew that if she ate she would throw up not too long after.

They didn't talk for the next few minutes, until a boy with a utilities belt wrapped around his waist jogged over to their table and slid in next to Annabeth.

"Hey," he said, as though he knew her and it was the most casual thing in the world to come sit with her.

"Um, hi." She responded, but he wasn't paying attention. He was grinning at the other girl mischievously.

"You're Thalia Grace, aren't you?" he asked the girl. "The one who murdered her brother when they were both only four years old? I've looked into that story and figured out what you looked like." The girl's hands clenched her silverware and she stared intently at her food.

"How did you hear about me? We've all been locked up until today." She spoke hoarsely.

The boy shrugged. "I have my ways. I can find out anything I want with the right price."

I looked at him with wide eyes. "How old are you?"

He glanced at me with a smug grin. "Nine years and aging by the second." Annabeth nodded in response, and the boy sighed. "Anyways, what's your name? I already know that one's name," he pointed to Thalia, "but who are you?"

"Annabeth Chase," she said and extended her hand out to him. He gladly took it and she expected a rough shake, but instead he lowered his head and kissed her knuckles slowly. She blushed furiously and pulled her hand out of his to slap him. He jerked away and put his hand to his cheek as he moaned, "Ow! That hurt, meanie!"

And so their friendship began.

* * *

 **Okay so I'm sorry this took forever to update, and I'm sorry that this chapter is** **really unsatisfying. I will try in the future to update sooner! And I really only threw this entire scene in for satisfaction (that I'm sure no one got, seeing as Percy wasn't in it). But I promise there will be lots of Perseus and Annabeth bonding/fighting time in the next chapter. ;)**

 **I would say that I'll update within a week, but I said that last time and didn't exactly keep my word. Soo I don't know when I'll update! I'm already on my Spring Break though so I should get plenty written within the next few days.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Just so you know, this chapter's a lot longer than the first two. Yay!**

* * *

The next week or so in Annabeth's "home", as she liked to call it, was constant change all around. Mr. Jackson had waited a few months to get all his plans worked out, and now he was taking action. From what Annabeth had heard, he didn't like the way Mr. Banks (Mr. Wrinkles, Annabeth nicknamed him because of what seemed like hundreds of wrinkles all over his body) took care of things. Then again, it _was_ a mental hospital; not the best of people came lining up for the job of running it. But Mr. Jackson felt responsible and protective of the poor, unbalanced people who took residence in the building (as he worded over the intercom) and took up the job. Mr. Banks wanted to retire anyway.

On this day she sat outside on the cool concrete ground while she watched the other children run around playing games and enjoying themselves. They were let out of their rooms so consistently now that, even though it had only been a few days, Annabeth subconsciously expected Matthew and Simon to open her door and bring her out five times a day—once for breakfast, next for morning health checks along with mental tests, next for lunch, then afternoon activities, then dinner. The times in between she spent painting, and she didn't have to hide her art supplies anymore. One morning her therapist asked her what her passion was, and she immediately responded with her obsession to paint. He never asked her when she had the chance to paint, just had two crates of art supplies delivered to her room completed with canvases and brushes and paint and pencils and everything she needed. No one noticed that her old supplies were mixed in with the rest of it when she used it all.

Her life became perfect for her. She wasn't sure how a normal child lived their life, but she was pretty sure she was living normal enough. She smiled and laughed more often now, talked to the other children too. Her closest friends were Thalia, Leo (who was the boy that sat with them the first day they were out of their rooms), and a mysterious boy she met named Nico. She didn't know if he considered her as his friend, seeing as they had only had one conversation and Annabeth had done most of the talking, but she liked him. They all sat together during meal times, and sometimes hung out in the afternoon during free period. Annabeth was happy.

And most importantly, she wasn't lonely anymore.

She wouldn't have admitted it to herself at the time, but she always felt alone when she was locked in her room. The only voices she had heard were Matthew and Simon's, and they weren't good company at all. When she brought it up to her friends or any of the other kids, they would agree and mention how lonely they were as well. And unlike her with her art supplies, they didn't have something to keep them occupied.

This made her even more grateful for her ex-guard. William was the best at making her smile, especially when he poked fun at Matthew who was guarding her with him. Simon wasn't working at the hospital yet. He often made trips out of town and brought her back something every time. That's how she got the paint brushes.

 _"Hey kiddo," William knocked softly on the door as he pushed it open. Annabeth was sprawled out on her bed, playing with her hands under the covers. She looked up at him and her eyes grew big in excitement._

 _"Willy!" She ran towards him and wrapped her arms around his legs. After a moment of squeezing his legs so tight that she cut off circulation, she pulled back and rocked on the balls of her feet. "Did you get me something?"_

 _"Of course I did, I always bring something back for you." He kneeled down and reached in his bag to grab whatever it was that he got her. He pulled out a plastic bag filled with a dozen sticks with soft hair on the ends._

 _Annabeth eyed it curiously. "What are they?" She took the bag out of his hand and opened it, reaching in to pull one out. She stared at the strange tip and touched it carefully. William chuckled._

 _"They're called paint brushes, Anna. You make pictures with them."_

 _She gave him her famous fish eyes as she looked at him in amazement. "Really? How? Are they magic?"_

 _He laughed again and stood up as he took the paint brush out of her hand. "No, no. Let me show you." He pulled something else out of his bag: a small container of a bright green liquid. He unscrewed the lid and dipped the brush in it, then walked over to her bed and pushed it to the side. He slide the brush along the floor and Annabeth gasped as the color ran across it._

 _"No way!" She bent down next to him and stared at the color in awe. "Do it again!"_

 _And they spent the next hour painting._

William was fired for unknown reasons not too long after that. Annabeth liked to think that he stuck up for her for something and that's why he wasn't her guard anymore, not the rumors the guards would spread about him going mental because he spent too much time with her. If she was the reason, she wanted it to be for a good cause.

She never thought about William anymore, though sometimes he came to mind against her will **(A/N: hehe…will)**. Thankfully it was easier now, because she had other people to occupy her thoughts.

Like Perseus.

 **( A/N: Speak of the devil.)** Annabeth sat on the ground reading a book her therapist had given her, completely unaware of the football spiraling towards her. A second before it could collide with her face, she looked up to see it resting in a not-too-small and not-too-large hand floating no farther than an inch in front of her face. She jerked her head back and looked up to see the eyes of the son of Mr. Jackson, the owner of the hospital. Though she'd met Perseus before, he seemed to carry a lot more importance in his stance now. She hadn't seen him for two years, after all. He aged physically and mentally, she could tell.

She scrambled up to her feet and noticed that she was a good three inches taller than Perseus. Point one for her, she guessed. It always felt good to be the taller one.

"Um…thanks, Perseus." She muttered and gave Perseus a good stare. She didn't particularly like him, since all he ever did was parade around like he was more important than the patients who lived in the hospital.

"Don't call me that," he snapped, and she was surprised by the deepness of his voice. Wasn't he only nine or ten?

"Well, what else should I call you? That's your name, isn't it?" She crossed her arms defiantly over her chest. He glared at her and she glared just as intensely back.

"Percy. That's what I go by." He eventually said, and Annabeth raised an eyebrow.

"Alright, fine, _Percy_. What are you doing out here? This place is for the insane. Aren't you scared of getting hurt?" She taunted. Annabeth knew she was being rude, but she couldn't stop herself. It was pouring out of her like she had been waiting to say all this for a long time. "Why don't you just go back to your daddy and stay away from us _freaks_?"

Percy's face remained completely impassive, but he cracked his knuckles. "You're not freaks. Just unbalanced children that need surveillance." He straightened his posture.

" _Children_? You're the same age as most of us! Why do you act so high and mighty, huh? Because your dad owns us? Well, we're not his or your property. We're people too. Just because we have some mental issues doesn't mean we're below you."

"His smile was full of pity, but not the sweet, "I wish I could help you" kind. It was more the, "you are just so sad to look at, like a little lost puppy" kind, and Annabeth was about to burst. "But you are, Annabeth. All of you are." He said, and she moved. She didn't even process what she was doing, just let her body control itself. She knocked him to the ground and saddled on top of him. She threw multiple punches to his face, and he tried to block them by bringing his hands in front of his face, but it didn't do much. She shoved his hands away and kept punching, and punching, and punching. All the anger she kept pent up from her entire life she let go in this moment. The people who left her—her mother, William—the ones who hurt her—Matthew and Simon—and the boy who she was hurting right now—Perseus. The boy who thought he was above her. The boy who thought he was untouchable, but in reality was getting pummeled by an insane, nine year old girl.

She didn't harm him too bad before the guards rushed forward and pulled her off. She struggled in their grip to get back to Percy, to keep letting out the fury, but one of them pulled out a needle full of a serum and thrusted it into her neck. She shook violently then fell to the ground, paralyzed. She looked up without moving her head to see Percy slowly getting lifted to his feet by the guards as he wiped his mouth with a cloth one of the guards had given him.

"Need to be babied, do you?" She croaked out. The edges of her vision were getting blurry and dark, fading out the world. "Can't be a man and pick yourself up?" Then she closed her eyes and blacked out. She was glad too, because she could have sworn she saw one of the guards coming over to her with a taser.

* * *

She woke up to screaming. It was loud, piercing and revolting. It made Annabeth feel like she needed to hide away from whatever was causing the screaming.

She was about to get out of the bed she was currently laying in, but a hand on her arm stopped her. She looked over to see Mr. Jackson sitting in the chair next to the bed, and she slowly leaned back.

"Good morning, Annabeth. How are you feeling?" He asked her as he ran his hand over his chiseled jawline.

She gulped nervously. "I'm fine…How's Perseus?" She did her best not to spit out his name but didn't do too fantastic of a job.

He chuckled lowly. "My son is fine. Not any worse than usual. You only gave him a couple bruises."

 _Only a couple?_ She had attacked him. She hit him with all her might, so she expected more than just a couple bruises. She felt a mixture of anger and relief. She hated Percy (though she didn't know why those feelings were so much stronger now than before), but she didn't want to hurt anybody. She wasn't that _kind_ of insane.

Now, she realized, violent was going to be labeled on her papers. Many other things were on there, but violent was never even considered by herself or anyone else who knew her.

How would her mother react? Is was unwise of Annabeth to jump Perseus, and it would most likely lead to terrifying consequences. This was the first time Annabeth was glad she didn't have her mother.

Annabeth nodded in response to Poseidon. "Good."

Poseidon walked around the room casually. "Would you like to tell me what my son did to make you attack him? He's usually so behaved."

Annabeth scoffed quietly. "He was being rude. He-" she stopped herself. When she thought back on it, she was the one throwing the insults. The only rude thing Percy had said was confirming he was above them. "Well, I guess…I started it. But he did end up saying that he was better than the kids who live here."

Poseidon nodded as he listened with only understanding plastered on his face. "Interesting. So he didn't do anything to urge you to fight? Not even a small action?"

She paused. "He…stopped a football from hitting me."

"And that makes you upset?" He raised an eyebrow in question.

"Yes, actually. I can take a hit; I don't need to be protected. I already have enough protection as it is here in this 'hospital', as you all call it."

Poseidon nodded again. He clasped his hands together behind his back. "Alright, I understand. But first-" The doors burst open, interrupting his sentence. Perseus ran into the room as fast as possible and grabbed ahold of his father's arm. His eyes were wide and bloodshot, and he looked scared.

"Poseidon!" He yelled. "Let them go! Let them all go, they don't deserve this! No one does!" He shook Poseidon so hard that they were both knocked off of their feet. Percy saddled on top of Poseidon much like how Annabeth did to Percy when they were outside.

Percy wrapped his hands around Poseidon's neck. "You can't do it! I won't let you!"

How could a boy his age have so much strength? Annabeth herself wouldn't be able to keep Mr. Jackson in place if he was walking, not even slow him down. It confused her to no end, but more importantly she knew that she couldn't stop him. If Percy was strong enough to hold his father down, Annabeth had no chance in pulling him off. Not to mention Percy was raging right now, furious at Poseidon for some unknown reason.

With what seemed to be all his strength, Poseidon threw his son off of him. Percy landed with a thud at the other side of the room, but didn't stay still for too long. He jumped up and ran towards Poseidon again. He was rabid like a wild animal.

Before he could reach his father this time, multiple guards rushed in and two of them grabbed Perseus. He thrashed around, biting at the guards necks. emBiting?/em Annabeth wondered. One of them slammed a needle into his neck, and he did the exact same thing as Annabeth did outside: jolted around then fell to the ground, paralyzed. Two more of the guards were around Poseidon checking him for injuries, but he mostly seemed out of breath and not harmed.

One guard came over to Annabeth. "Are you alright?" He asked her, with no true concern in his voice. She nodded, and he left her to go help the other guards carry Percy out.

Poseidon waved the guards around him away and walked over to Annabeth. "I apologize. Percy has some issues, but he's usually contained." Annabeth noticed bruises forming on his neck, and gasped.

"Your…your neck, sir."

He nodded, then winced from the movement. "Yes, yes. I'll go get that taken care of. Once again, I apologize. You will never experience that from my son again." He took a breath and looked to be searching for something else to say. "You may leave within the next hour. You weren't harmed at all in your little…conflict." He left with that. Annabeth leaned back in the bed and went over in her head what had just happened, and one question continued to ring in her ears.

Was Percy insane too?

* * *

 **I felt the need to update soon. So de nada** **!**

 **Whenever I write I literally don't know what's going to happen next. It's like having a conversation with someone: something comes to mind that flows with what has been said, so you say it. I guess I write like this because I love to read so much, it's like being able to control a book. Which is basically what I'm doing. And it makes me happy.**

 **If you guys have any suggestions or corrections, please don't hesitate to tell me them. The best part about writing for others to see is the feedback.**

 **Thank you for reading! Please follow and leave a review! :)**


	4. Chapter 4

Years went by. Years of never knowing what had happened with Percy, and barely speaking to Mr. Jackson again. Seven years, to be exact. Not much changed for Annabeth at the hospital; same schedule every day with the same people. The only ones to keep her life interesting were Thalia, Nico and Leo. Thalia and Nico were both a little on the dark side, but Thalia was more outspoken while Nico kept to himself. Leo, on the other hand, was the biggest ball of energy to exist. Their little group assumed he was going through a weird stage when they first met him, but after the first few years of him getting more and more hyper, they realized he was just like that naturally.

Annabeth assumed that her and Percy just weren't compatible, and their fight all those years ago proved it. She originally thought it was because she was classified as insane and he wasn't, but now she was reconsidering. That moment in the infirmary room when Percy ran in with a crazed look in his eyes, when he looked like he had no control over himself, Annabeth wondered what was wrong with him. Was he sick? If he was mental like the other kids there then why wasn't he in confinement? There were some kids, Annabeth had learned, that were in there own solitary environments. They were never let out of their rooms for meals or check ups, or anything at all. Annabeth didn't know much about them other than the fact that they were beyond help, and Annabeth thought that Percy might be one of them.

But that's why they were in the hospital: to get help. In the end they would all get better and leave. At least, that's what they were told.

She decided not to worry about Percy long ago, but he was very persistent to always be on her mind. Despite that, she pushed him aside mentally and went on with life. Thalia and her were closer than ever before, and she found out how Thalia got there. When she was younger, around six, she had a brother named Jason who was four. They lived in a run down town with their mother, Beryl Grace. Even though life wasn't too glamorous for them, Thalia was happy. She had her family, and that's all that mattered. Of course, every once and a while she would throw a fit because she didn't get what she wanted, but every young girl did.

One night Beryl had gone out to the drug store to pick up some things and announced to her children that she would be back within an hour and they could call her on the home phone if they needed anything. Most mothers wouldn't leave such young children alone, but she wouldn't be far and would be home soon. So she left.

* * *

 _"Momma said she'd be back in an hour, didn't she?" Jason had whispered nervously to Thalia, no sooner than an hour and a half later. Jason was younger than Thalia, and most definitely easier to frighten. He clutched his sister's arm and looked up at her with wide, expectant eyes. He wanted her to protect him, but if she was honest she would say that she was just as scared as he was. Over the past hour, they heard screaming and gun shots that wouldn't stop coming from out in the distance, though it was close enough to worry them._

 _"It's fine, Jase. She'll be back soon—probably just got caught in traffic." Thalia responded, trying to wave the worry off of both of them._

 _"She walked to the store, Thals," Jason said even quieter than before. A crashing sound came closer than an of the other noises, sounding like it was from their next door neighbors' house. More screaming. Tears started pouring down Jason's cheeks and she hugged him close to her chest._

 _"Ignore it." She ran her hand over his hair to calm him down like their mother constantly did. "Wanna watch a movie?" She forced him to look into her eyes. He nodded slowly, and they tip-toed their way to the living room couch. She grabbed the remote off the coffee table and a blanket out of their box of blankets, then went and snuggled up next to her brother. She draped the blanket over their laps then turned on the TV and began to flip through the channels. They settled with The Lord of The Rings, Jason's favorite movie because of the fight scenes. Most of the kids their age weren't allowed to see it, and the ones that were weren't interested and got bored within the first five minutes. But Jason didn't care, and neither did Thalia. For her, Jason's happiness was all that mattered._

 _But then the pounding came. Jason shrieked in fear and folded in on himself into a ball. The pounding was insistent and loud, making the hysteria in Thalia rise up more and more. She grabbed Jason's hand and raced out of the living room, straight to their mom's bedroom. She shoved Jason under the bed and hid herself in her mother's closet. She squished herself in between the dozens of shirts hanging from wall to wall, and stood as still as she could. The pounding stopped for a moment, then a loud crash echoed through the house as the front door must have broke apart and fallen to the ground. Thalia could only hope that Jason was being quiet as well, but also felt bad that she abandoned him to be alone under the bed. But she figured that if they found her in there then they wouldn't go looking for anymore kids and would assume that she was the only one, seeing as she was alone and that most traumatized kids would be with their siblings._

 _Thalia heard heavy footsteps growing louder and knew that they were entering the room. She held her breath and begged to God, the gods, or anyone who would listen that they wouldn't find her or her brother._

 _But she had no such luck._

 _She heard small screams and whimpers as the men snickered._

 _"Let me go!" Jason shrieked. Thalia peaked out and looked to see one of the men holding Jason in the air by the back of his shirt while her brother kicked his feet around helplessly. They all just laughed as they shoved him and tugged his hair. "My sister will get you for this!" He yelled, and they all went silent._

 _"What'd you say?" One of them whispered harshly in Jason's face, and the others turned around while pointing their guns in random directions. The man held a gun against Jason's forehead._

 _"N-nothing." Jason whimpered. The man slapped him hard across the face and Thalia shrunk back when she heard him cry out._

 _"You have a sister? Where is she?" He shook Jason around. Tears hung at the edges of Jason's eyes and Thalia couldn't watch any longer. She was about to step out of the closet and march up to the man, but Jason opened his eyes and stopped struggling. Thalia froze where she was as Jason spoke._

 _"Go to hell, you jerk." He said, and the man pulled the trigger._

* * *

So Thalia's story had been one big rumor. People only thought Thalia killed him because she blamed herself and told everyone that it was her fault—that she killed him. She believed she could have saved him but was too weak to do it, too stupid.

Of course Annabeth didn't blame her for what went down that night, but she couldn't change the brunette's mind. She was insane because of it, after all. It was her only train of thought.

Annabeth liked hearing stories from the other patients there. She told herself it was because they were interesting, but she knew in the back of her mind that it was something else: She didn't know why _she_ was there. She was crazy, that much was true, but not any more than she believed an average person would be. Even if she was crazier, was it enough to be in an asylum? She had been in there for twelve years, and she was only sixteen now. What could a four year old do that would have them classified insane?

She didn't and wouldn't know for a while. No matter how hard she tried to wrack her brain for the memory, she couldn't remember doing anything out of the ordinary. Then again, she couldn't remember anything from before the asylum. It was all just blank.

Annabeth lay down on the grass, listening to the laughter and voices from the other patients as they sat and talked about their own lives. Through the years, the children were moved to different areas of the hospital as they aged, and only then did Annabeth realize just how large the asylum was. She had moved twice now—once when she turned 10, then when she turned 13. She thinks they will move her again soon because she had been in the same area for two years.

She heard the crunch off dead grass next to her and looked over to see a boy laying down. He rested his arms behind his head, and Annabeth caught a glimpse of those bright green eyes. _Of course,_ she thought. _Now he wants to be near me._

A moment of silence passed between them before Annabeth broke it. "I'm not apologizing, if that's what you're waiting for."

He chuckled with a small grin. "You did punch me."

"It was a long time ago." She shrugged.

"Yeah, and you never even once tried to say you were sorry."

"Because I'm not, and I never was." She sighed. "You deserved it." She muttered under her breath, not caring if he heard her or not. Despite what he believed, he was asking for it.

He scoffed and she turned to look at him. He was staring at the sky with cold and empty eyes. "I was acting on what I was taught. I didn't know at the time that what I said was something I should have kept to myself."

Annabeth sat up and continued to stare at him, mentally burning holes into his head. "But what you said wasn't true," she insisted. "We don't need help. We never asked to be here—our parents are the ones who put us here, and it was because they didn't like us. _Not_ because we're insane."

Percy stared at her in what looked like amazement. "You really think that, don't you?" Annabeth nodded confidently.

"And just because your dad owns our _home_ doesn't mean he owns _us_. Do you think you're better than us or something?"

Percy didn't say anything. He continued to stare at her for what felt like eternity. Slowly, he sat up and Annabeth noticed how much older he had gotten. They were the same hight sitting down, but she didn't want to find out how much taller he was than her when they were standing—his legs looked a mile long.

Percy leaned close to her face. Far too close for Annabeth's comfort, but she couldn't find a voice to tell him to move. He looked at her with a passion, his eyes looking swiftly between hers. "I'm not better than you. At all." His voice came out deep and raspy, like he had just been screaming. For all she knew, he had been. "If anything, you're better than me. You're the one who shouldn't even be here."

Annabeth didn't know what he was talking about, but she didn't want him to stop. He seemed like he had spaced out, looking through her rather than at her. "What do you mean?" She whispered.

He continued to stare at her for a moment, then let out a shaky breath and snapped back to reality. He smiled tightly and stood up, then extended his hand down to her. She took it hesitantly, leaping up to her feet. He nodded his head to her in acknowledgement then turned around to go inside.

"Wait," She called, and he froze. She didn't say anything for a moment, not positive what she was stopping him for. Yes, she had questions, but none she was yet willing to ask him. "Just…don't ignore me anymore. It's annoying."

Percy grinned. "I won't." Then he stepped inside.

"So you talked to him?" Thalia asked curiously. "And you _weren't_ throwing insults at each other—or fists? I thought you hated him."

Annabeth nodded while looking down at her breakfast. "I did. I do. I just…I don't know. I hate the old him, but today he seemed different—older. Better." Annabeth smirked slightly. "I know that sounds weird, but it's true. He just seems like a mature person now, you know? Maybe he was just going through a hormonal time when we were nine."

Thalia snorted and crossed her arms while she shook her head. "Only you could say something so blunt. Is he that much better? I thought you said he was insane too."

"I said I _thought_ he _could_ be insane, not that he is. And now…he has better control over himself."

"Woah." Thalia placed her hands on Annabeth's shoulders. "Sweetheart, you haven't had a conversation with this boy in _years_. Today you talked to him once, and now you're acting like you know him better than he knows himself. It was one friendly conversation, Anna. That's it."

Annabeth sighed and nodded lightly. She never liked Percy, and she didn't now. She just wanted some hope that not everyone around here was crazy. The last person she had a civil conversation with who was still sane was William.

Thalia sighed and opened her mouth to say something else, but Leo crashed down next to them and interrupted her.

"Well, I'm screwed." He stared down at his food and waited for someone to ask him why. Thalia and Annabeth looked at each other then rolled their eyes.

"What'd you do this time?" Annabeth asked.

Leo looked up at them with a smirk. "Just landed my annual prank, is all. But this time there were cameras. I guess they were expecting me."

"You do it the same day every year, Leo," Thalia pointed out with an exasperated look. "it wasn't exactly spontaneous."

"But they've never had cameras before, and I've been doing it for six years!" He sighed, then grumbled something under his breath inaudibly.

"Whatever," Annabeth mumbled. "I bet it's not a big deal, I mean they haven't caught you yet. What would they do to you, anyways?"

Leo shrugged. "Beats me. I just know that I should lay low for a while."

Thalia and Annabeth nodded in agreement. A few minutes of silence passed between them as they ate, and Annabeth took the time to dwell on Mr. Jackson. The way he controlled things, the way things changed—at first it was great. No one was locked in their rooms anymore or mistreated by their guards. But over time, the routine that everyone had began to show how blank everything and everyone was. No changes. Nothing spontaneous—other than Leo, but even he had a pattern. It was dull.

For a long time Annabeth was worrying that it would always be like that. That she would become like them, with no hope that things would change. Deep down she always wanted to get out of there: there was no freedom, even though she was allowed out of her room now. It was rule after rule after rule.

* * *

 **Sorry if this ended kind of abruptly, I just wanted to get it posted. Let me know how you feel about all this.**

 **So I'm going to start recommending a book at the end of each chapter, because I'm a helpful person. :)**

 **This time I'm recommending Awaken by Katie Kacvinsky. IT'S SO GOOD I swear it's one of my favorite books. So go check it out, maybe? I need to relish in it's quality with someone other than my dog.**

 **I didn't really look over this chapter so I'm sorry for any typos. I'll probably look over it another time and edit it. ;)**

 **Talk to you later inter-bugs! Don't forget to help me out and give some feedback.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Warning: intense Percabeth moment in this chapter (at least I think so—it's definitely not fluff though. It's a mix of depressing and seductive).**

* * *

"Run for your life!" Leo screamed. He ran passed Annabeth in a gust of wind and waved his arms around in the air dramatically. He stopped in front of Thalia and shook her shoulders. "We're all gonna die!"

Thalia smacked him hard across the face. He brought his hands away from her shoulders and up to his cheek while he stumbled back.

"Ow! Holy shit, Thals. It was a joke."

"A joke that you got a little too crazy with. Calm yourself, repair boy." Thalia massaged her hand.

Annabeth laughed at their quarrel and Nico shook his head with a smirk. They always argued, and even Annabeth couldn't get them to stop.

"Don't call me that," Leo muttered, his mood dimming. Thalia raised an eyebrow. She sat down on the soft grass beneath her, and Annabeth glanced around at the scenery around them. They were skirting the boundaries where the electric fence kept them in, sitting on a hill.

"Don't call you repair boy?" Thalia asked. "Why not? I've been calling you that for years."

"Just not today, okay?" Leo made eye contact with Thalia and stared at her with a firm look in his eyes. Leo was never serious, especially not about a matter as small as his nickname. They all called him that, and he never shut them up about it before.

He continued to rub his cheek then went on with a new conversation.

"Did you guys hear about the break out?"

Thalia and Annabeth looked at him in question, but couldn't respond before Nico spoke up.

"Yeah. One of the Cureless escaped when their doctor was bringing in his food. They still aren't sure how he got out of his restraints."

Thalia blinked. "Who is it?"

Leo shrugged and leaned against the tree behind him. "Not sure what his name is. I've only heard what the guards call him: The Lightning Thief." He shook his head with a smirk. "I wish they gave _us_ cool nicknames like that."

Annabeth sat up straighter on the ground next to Thalia. "You mean, one of the insane are out? Just roaming around freely? That can't be allowed."

"Don't call them just insane, Annabeth, because that's what we all are. They're called the Cureless for a reason. It's why they are kept in isolation while we can go outside, and be around each other." Nico clarified.

"I know, genius." Annabeth stuck her tongue out at him.

"They caught him," Leo said, "but not without a fight. People are saying his hands were cut off in the process of bringing him back, because he wouldn't stop punching them."

Thalia rolled her eyes. "Nobody here knows anything other than you, and I doubt the guards—from whom you get your information—would openly talk about how they had to cut off a patient's hands. You just made that up to cause more drama."

They all chuckled at the look on Leo's hurt and betrayed face. Before any conversation could be continued, a piercing sound of feedback came through the speakers. Mr. Jackson's voice came through a few seconds after.

"Hello, children. I hope the day is going well and you are all satisfied with yourselves. I would like for Miss Annabeth Chase to come to my office. Annabeth, go to Mrs. Johnson's medical room to get directions. Enjoy the rest of your day, children." The intercom then clicked off after more whining feedback.

Leo, Thalia and Nico's eyes all landed on Annabeth. She met their confused gazes with a puzzled one of her own. She shrugged, then stood up and went down the hill back towards the building.

She wasn't sure what Mr. Jackson wanted. She hadn't had a formal conversation with him for years, and rarely saw him anywhere in person, so he couldn't be calling her in for just a friendly conversation. She hadn't done anything explicit or drawn attention to herself, so he couldn't be punishing her. In fact, she was the sanest child on campus. So what did he want with her?

She arrived at Mrs. Johnson's room and knocked on the door softly before opening it a crack. She heard soft crying from inside, and saw Mrs. Johnson rubbing the back of a hunched over figure on the metal table who was shaking violently.

"Hush, now. The dreams will be going away soon." Mrs. Johnson took a needle and slowly pushed it into the body's arm. They flinched, but didn't pull away. Like they wanted it, whatever _it_ was.

If Annabeth was honest, Mrs. Johnson was her least favorite teacher there. Although she didn't teach the teenagers anything—only gave medical check-ups—a teacher was the only thing she could be called. Leo called her along with the other female teachers a "P.B.," standing for Poisonous Berry. Annabeth never could figure out what was going through his mind when he picked that title. "Because they look appealing but once you get a taste, you're dead," was his explanation.

Annabeth knocked on the door again and Mrs. Johnson looked back at her.

"Annabeth. Come in." She stepped away from the sobbing person and opened the door wider for Annabeth. "I'll get you your papers."

So Annabeth got the directions from Mrs. Johnson then was shoo-d out of the room.

After a long five minutes of turning down hallways and walking up and down stairs, she arrived to a large pair of black doors. She approached them slowly, wondering if she was in the right place. Of course she was in the right place, what else would these doors go to? And this was where the directions led here. She looked to the side slightly and noticed a blue pad with the shape of a hand dented into it. She was supposed to put her hand there, she knew. She hesitated, but gave in and put her hand on the scanner. They already had all of her DNA and such, so there was nothing she needed to protect from a hand scanner. A green light blinked after a moment in the top corner of the panel, and the doors opened with a click. As soon as they opened, a strong scent of smoke came flowing into her lungs. She plugged her nose and covered her mouth, then peaked into the room.

"Hello?" She choked out. The entire room was misty with smoke floating around. Who smoked this much? Unless there was a fire spreading, which was possible seeing as it was extremely hot in the room. But there couldn't have been; Mr. Jackson called her in no more than ten minutes ago.

She stepped into the room and fanned her hands around in front of her face to clear some of the smoke. She looked around but couldn't see much. She could make out a desk and a couch, but that was it. She couldn't even see the door she came through anymore.

Walking across the room she spotted a large window, and ran over to it quickly. With more force than necessary, she yanked it open and watched the smoke fly out of the room while she buried her nose in the crook of her elbow.

"What are you doing?" A deep voice came whispering in her ear, and she quickly twisted her head. Percy Jackson stood there, in all his glory. His skin looked darker now—tanner. His lips were pink and a light blush coated his cheeks. Sweat glistened on his neck. Annabeth had to remind herself that she didn't like him.

"I needed that," he continued.

"You…you needed it? The smoke?" She stepped back a bit to distance herself from him, but she was against the window sill with one step. He stepped closer.

"Yes. It helps me relax." He traced his forefinger along her jaw down to her chin. _What the hell?_ She thought. She thought he hated her too. The only affection he ever showed her was when he laid down next to her that one day on the ground outside, and that was just a look he gave her. He was _touching_ her now. They barely knew each other.

She slowly brought her hand up to his and pushed it down. But as she let go, he brought his other hand to her waist and pressed closer to her. She gasped and looked up at him with wide eyes.

"What are you doing?" she whispered. "Where's your father? Didn't he call me here to talk to me? And you shouldn't fill your dad's office with smoke."

Percy looked down and let go of her, but didn't move away. "This isn't my dad's office. I just asked him to bring you here."

She scrunched her eyebrows together. "Me? Why? You don't know me, and it's dangerous to bring the insane into your…living space, or wherever we are."

Percy smirked, and finally stepped away. He walked backwards slowly towards the desk and picked up a glass of whiskey. He brought it to his lips, but before drinking it licked his lips slowly while staring at her, his eyes peaking over the rim of the glass. Annabeth figured that she was blushing, because he smirked before he took a drink. He then put it down and began unbuttoning his shirt.

"Woah, Jackson." Annabeth snapped. "What do you think you're doing?"

He paused and looked up at her. "It's really warm in here. I'm hot."

 _Of course you are,_ she thought, but refused to speak it. "Okay, but maybe you could wait for me to leave. Then you can…strip to your heart's content." She crossed her arms.

He shrugged. "I could," he let his button-up shirt fall off his shoulders and to the ground, "but you're cute when you blush."

Annabeth tried her hardest not to stare at his lean muscles and tanned chest, but it was to no avail. Her eyes traveled over his body, and only after no less than a minute did she notice that he was flexing. She blushed harder and raised an eyebrow at him.

He cocked his head to the side curiously and walked towards her once again, slowly. "Why do you dislike me, Chase? Ever since you punched me when we were nine I've had a feeling I'm not your favorite person. Why is that?"

When he was almost touching her, she ducked to the side and stepped around him quickly. He looked back at her with a smile.

"Or do I just make you uncomfortable? I guess how you feel about me could just be a side effect to your disease."

She raised her eyebrows. "Are you saying insanity is a disease?"

"No, of course not. Diseases can be cured. You, and everyone else is this place, cannot." He turned toward her and grabbed her wrist before she could slip away. He took a large step towards her so they were chest to chest once again. "Meaning you either can't be normal, or were never insane in the first place. What do you think, Chase?"

"Stop calling me that," she muttered. He gave her a smug smirk.

"Why, does it bother you? Maybe that's why you don't like me." He leaned close to her ear and whispered, "I know how to push your buttons."

"Why do you care why I don't like you?" She hissed. "You shouldn't even be allowed to talk to me. You can't talk to anyone else, not since the day I punched you. You shouldn't talk to me either. I want you to leave me alone."

"Why would I do what you want? What you want is the exact opposite of me, and everything that has to do with me." He shuffled his feet while holding eye contact with her. "I guess this means we'll be spending a lot of time together, huh?" he smiled and chuckled, then lightly shoved her to the side towards the door. "That's all I need. You're very intoxicating, you know that?" He then proceeded to walk towards the door, forcing her to walk back toward it to keep him from touching her. He closed the door once she was outside.

Once again she wondered, _What the hell?_

* * *

"I swear, I will make sure he never gets near you again. What did he think he was doing? Did he think he could take advantage of you just because you're different, then I'm going to make sure her doesn't make love to anyone ever again. And you know what—"

"Thalia," Annabeth interrupted her and grabbed her fist before she hit the punching bag so hard that it busted open. Her knuckles were bad bruised and split open, blood splattered over her fingers. "Calm down. You're going to get your card rejected if you keep hurting yourself like that."

"Well I'm sure they'll cut me some slack when I inform them that Mr. Smug Perseus raped my friend." She peeled off the leftover shreds of wrapping from her knuckles.

"He didn't rape me, Thals."

"Whatever."

They were the only ones in the gym at the moment, although they usually were. Only so many patients were allowed to be around weights and be in a place where people could let their anger out. Since multiple people worked out at a time, someone could loose their temper and take out their anger on a nearby patient.

Annabeth and Thalia had cards that allowed them to be there. Nico and Leo weren't given any—Leo because he had a habit of setting things on fire at the least expected moments, and Nico not having one probably had something to do with his past, which no one knew. It was classified—so classified that even Leo couldn't find out. And Nico wouldn't tell their group anything, so they didn't bother with trying to find out. If he wasn't willing to share, they weren't willing to know.

* * *

 **So I just developed some serious writer's block, and I didn't know how to continue the chapter. So I just ended it :) Hope you enjoyed!**

 **Try and guess who the Lightning Thief is!**


	6. Author's Note

**Soooooo here's the deal. I can never stick with a story for long, and I have currently lost interest in/haven't been able to figure out how to continue this story. I don't think I'm giving it up, but I'm going to write something else separate from this story (most likely a one-shot) and see if I want to come back to this afterwards. Sorry to anyone who was really looking forward to an update, but I think it's better that I stop when I'm not invested than if I kept writing out of pressure from you guys.**

 **Once again, I'm sorry! Hopefully the next story will make up for it.**

 **But I** ** _do_** **want to acknowledge some of the comments I have gotten.**

 **CORPS3Phexis: Aww thank you so much! I'll try to post my next story soon. :)**

 **LibbySlaysTheUniverse: Thank you for reviewing! Thank you for the constructive criticism, and I'll try to do better in the future. :) But keep in mind that this is my first shared story and I'll get better with time. I also don't plan out my stories (unless I'm writing a novel and plan on getting it published) because it's more fun for me that way—even** ** _I_** **am wondering what's going to happen next. :) But anyways, thank you for being honest with me and I'm sure I will improve with time. (On the review you did for the first chapter, I meant to put 'f. Since Annabeth is young and grew up in isolation, I made it to where her grammar wasn't the best, and she was also talking quickly because she was freaking out in that moment.)**

 **As for everyone else who reviewed (riptidedauntlessgryffindor, zena crime, THECAPSKID, Lavender5687, MiaHominaTelosWrit, queenreynaavilaramirez-arellno, Guest, Dr. Phil, bookowl26, QueenRARA (who I think was queenreynaavilaramirez-arellno when she wasn't signed in), Aveca, RainyDaysAndGoodBooks, and Pieter250), thank you so much! I love getting reviews—it honestly makes me so happy to read them. :)**


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